The Herald of Death
by Not Non-Fiction
Summary: All she ever wanted was to be simply Hariel Lily Potter, but such was impossible for her: "The-girl-who-lived", "The-Woman-who-Conquered". Now, after the battle had been won and evil vanquished, she remained forever in her youth; for Death did not release what belonged to them so easily. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, she left. But what lies beyond the Veil?
1. The Veil of Death

A/N: This story has been in my mind for quite a while now and decided to put it forth. I have yet to see a story that depicts a female Harry Potter as the Herald in this particular crossover, and thought I might as well write it out and post it. I have another account that desperately needs to be updated, but honestly have no motivation to do so. So, instead I write this and hopefully the motivation will come in time. Enjoy or don't, I am writing this mostly for myself (though thoughts and comments are, as always, greatly appreciated).

Key:  
"Dialogue"  
 _"Thoughts"  
_ _ **"Parseltongue"**_

Chapter One: The Veil of Death

Magic.

It was both her pride and the bane of her existence. It was her freedom just as much as it was her chains. It was everything she could ever love, and all she would ever hate. Her dreams and her nightmares come to life.

She had never been normal. No, merely being Hariel Lily Potter was something that could never have been- even had her parents survived. She would have been the daughter of two great magics, she was the "Girl-who-lived", "The Chosen One", "The Woman who Conquered". There was, nor ever would be, merely Hariel. Now, after everything- the war, the death, the reconstruction- there was a new title to add to her list: The Master of Death.

The title, for she had known, was merely a jest to the Tale of the Three Brothers. She didn't truly believe that the three items had been truly gifted from death, but rather heavily layered with magic over the generations they existed. She never suspected that after years of watching her friends grow, age, expand, and multiply that she would remain forever in the peak of her existence. Forever the age and look of a healthy and vibrant twenty-three year old witch. Never would have imagined that despite everything she attempted, death would not grant her release from life. Never would have imagined that by unwittingly gathering the three Deathly Hallows that she would remain tied to Death itself.

That being the Mistress of Death was more than she could have ever imagined to be.

Nor how much she wished it had never been bestowed upon her. Now after nearly a hundred years of watching and learning she would remain until the end: until the universe itself was no more.

She spend decades in denial. Learning magics long thought forgotten and delved into everything she could to find something, anything that would grant her relief.

Yet no relief came.

It wasn't until her year-mates had all passed on that she accepted her fate. She pretended to be others. Pretended to be a grand-daughter of herself to walk among old friends and their children. Her travels had expanded her magic more than she had thought possible whilst learning in the halls of Hogwarts. Metamorphmagi were not born, not truly. It was a skill that could be taught, but far easier to learn had the magic been unsealed during birth. And so she trained herself in the art- and was capable of shifting her features just enough for those around her to believe she was the descendent of herself.

It was a pitiful existence if she were honest with herself. Humans were meant to die, they weren't meant to remain and it was killing her very soul. Her humanity. As the years passed she stopped caring much for the ongoings of the people around her. Did it truly even matte? What was the point in caring- in trying to change the world if after a time all she had done, all she had accomplished would merely be forgotten or thrown away for something else? For all she did to save people, her friends, and family- what did it matter now that they were all dead and gone and she long forgotten?

Psychology would state that she was a highly functioning sociopath. She could easily pretend she cared. Pretend it all mattered and was still functioning within society but didn't actually care about them at all.

It was a hundred years after the Battle of Hogwarts that she found herself in the Ministry of Magic, specifically within the Chamber of the Veil. She had never cared to come back to this place after Sirius was lost to her, and never wanted to know that her godfather, the one that truly loved her as Hariel, was lost and nothing could be done to bring him back.

Now she stood before the arch, noticing for the first time the intricate designs on the frame. The way the shadowy veil flowed with a nonexistent wind. It reminded her of a mirror of sorts, albeit one filled with death.

She stared into the moving shadow, her eyes fixating on each ripple and fold. All she carried was her cloak, wand, and Hermione's beaded bad. It had been gifted to her "grand-daughter" in Hermione's will, and so she carried it with her now. The entirety of her fortune, from her books to her gold was in the pouch. She had a multitude of potions and herbs of all sorts within the small pockets within the bag and nearly all her worldly possessions.

There was a small smile playing at her lips as she noticed the wards she set around the room faltered and shattered under magical pressure from someone outside. She remained unchanged in her appearance, maintaining what she truly looked like as Aurors and Unspeakables flooded the room wands raised at the ready. She heard one gasp when he took her appearance, his face veiled by a hood but she knew from his magic aura that he was a descendent of Neville Longbottom. A true friend and Gryffindor if there ever was one. He was a good man, and his children followed in his footsteps.

The screamed at her, shouting to move away from the Veil and into their custody for questioning. She let out a small chuckle, smiling truly before she stepped forward and embraced the engulfing shadows around her. The shouting of the men and women behind her blurred, as did her world. Everything became grey, sound no longer reaching her ears until she was met with an explosion of green and knew no more.

" _Finally."_


	2. Beyond the Veil

A/N: In all honesty, please don't take this story too seriously.

Key:  
"Dialogue"  
 _"Spirits speech"  
_ _'Thoughts'_

Chapter Two: Beyond the Veil

Consciousness came slowly, but it was bitter sweet in its arrival. It had been a last-ditch effort, truly her last option was to go through the veil- yet it seemed death would not receive her. The world around her ebbed into existence: all shades of grey and green- a desolate world if she could ever construct one in her mind.

Pain was the next thing to come, further cementing that she remained alive in some way. It was a burning sensation across the entirety of her body, something familiar to full-body soreness. With a small grunt of effort, she rose from the surface she laid, and looked upon that which lay before her.

It was a strange place; truly not something that she could have ever invented herself. Greys and greens littered the air around her, wisps of something floated beyond her reach and creatures of some sort wandered aimlessly. There was absolutely no life, aside from the creatures, and it made her wonder just where exactly she could have wound up in.

 _'_ _If this is death…perhaps life was less cruel.'_ She couldn't imagine existing in this place. It was simply…void of anything.

Instead of simply staying in her place among the void, she decided to wander through this strange terrain. There also seemed to be no sense of gravity, as remnants of broken things littered the supposed walls as though they were the ground. She could see, not exactly ghosts, but shadows of people in certain places- their thoughts and feelings invading the air that it made it hard to find breath. They were all cries for help, and mostly fear of something that it was almost too much to bear.

 _"_ _Now,"_ came a booming voice that loomed over her, _"what have we here?"_ it was a masculine, soft and taunting.

She looked up and noticed nothing, confused she wandered forward (or what she considered forward) looking for anything that the voice could have come from.

 _"_ _You are neither a spirit, nor a demon."_ The voice informed, _"Yet you walk in my realm so calmly. What manner of creature are you?"_

She looked up to the sickly-looking sky and tilted her head, "Just a person trying to return to her family and friends." She answered quite honestly. She didn't fear this…thing. She had little to fear, what was the worst that could happen? She could be killed- yet it was what she hoped for, or she could live and nothing would change.

 _"_ _I sense no fear…"_ the voice claimed _, "What an odd little creature you are."_

"…Thanks." She said not knowing what else she could say.

 _"_ _Come to me, little creature."_ The voice soothed, causing her to tense slightly. Torture- that was something that could happen. It was never fun, just infliction of pain after pain…most certainly not something she wanted. _"Come, let me see what you_ are _."_ The voice continued.

Not truly seeing any other good alternative, she followed the voice as well as she could. There were strange black wisps of smoke surrounding her, floating in between her legs as she walked. She wasn't exactly sure what they were supposed to be as they were at least partially sentient in a way.

The path began to narrow, and she could see beyond some rocks that there was… _something_. She couldn't make out what it was, but it was grotesque for certain. Oozing slime and bulging flesh was definitely clear in her line of sight.

Before she made it through the crevice, the floor broke beneath her, a bright blinding white light engulfing her body.

 ** _"_** ** _No!"_** the voice boomed above her, angry and vicious in its tone.

 _"_ _You will not have her, beast!"_ A new voice broke in, but unlike the first, it was a combination of many. Men, women, children…their voices rang through together as one.

As she fell, she couldn't help but wonder if this was in any way how Alice felt when she fell into Underland. The swirling colors and objects floating around her was enough to cause a major case of vertigo and nausea. Thankfully, the light brought her to a new location quickly enough. It wasn't like the last, but it was particularly desolate as well. The greys were washed out and the green lighter, and though the terrain remained much like the last place it was…softer.

 _"_ _You are foolish to wander into Fear's domain, little mortal."_ Looking to her left where the voice came from, Hariel took in the form of a woman made of light. She was literally light, yet it did not hurt to look at her.

"Is that what the voice was? A…personification of Fear?" she asked slightly confused. She was speaking to an emotion the whole time? How did that even make sense…

 _"_ _It is one of the first Fears…and it has grown stronger the longer it exists. Its domain is not a place treaded lightly, yet you did so without question."_

"It certainly wasn't intended." She informed the woman, "I just wanted to be with my family, not come…to wherever this place is."

The woman tilted her head lightly in a questioning pose, _"You do not know where you are little mortal?"_

"Not even the slightest clue." Hariel answered honestly.

 _"_ _You are in what you mortals call the Fade, where spirits reside. How you are here in your physical form however…is curious."_ It replied bringing forth more questions than answers.

"What is the Fade?" honestly, she was becoming a bit frustrated.

 _"…_ _You do not know of the Fade? But you are a mage, I can sense your power easily."_ The woman replied stunned, _"It reeks of power and death. A smell which I sense not even the more curious demons would dare to touch. How have you not heard of the Fade?"_

"I can honestly say that I have never met a _Spirit_ in the way you're implying. I've seen the ghosts of family and friends who have passed, but not anything like yourself…you _are_ a spirit correct?" Hariel asked.

 _"_ _I am a spirit of Wisdom, little mortal. You are currently in a part of the Fade where I frequent. Safe and far from Fear."_

"Wisdom…you are the embodiment of Wisdom?"

 _"_ _Indeed. Though many do not see me as so, if at all. You mortals are so filled with preconceptions of what we spirits are that you…corrupt many of us to becoming demons."_

"Demons?" this place was considerably more interesting and dangerous than Earth it seemed.

 _"_ _There are many, the strongest Fear though there are some such as Pride, Envy and Sloth. Rage seems to be the more common around mortal dwellings."_

"I…see…" she answered not really understanding, "But, back to the main question: _where_ , exactly is the Fade?"

 _"_ _That is truly a good question, and I cannot give you a true answer. It exists beyond the plane of mortals, yet attached by a Veil. A…barricade if you wish. Spirits and demons can only interact with mages when they dream. Their magic links them to the Fade mentally, and we can converse and see the mortal realm through them."_

"But, you said I'm here physically. How do I go back to my plane of existence?"

 _"_ _As far as I understand, this was an impossibility. Clearly not as you are here. I would suggest the way you came, but such an entrance was likely one-way, correct?"_

Hariel nodded, "It was…so I'm stuck here?"

 _"_ _Perhaps."_

"Perhaps?"

 _"_ _The mortal realm has been quite active."_ She informed, _"So many mages have shown the world spiraling down into chaos. The Mage Rebellion it's called I believe. So many turning to demons for power and "safety", willingly becoming abominations."_

"What do you mean "Mage Rebellion"? I left there not thirty minutes ago and there was no such thing occurring. There hasn't been a Rebellion since the Goblin Rebellion of 1843." This entity was starting to really bother her with all this wrong information.

 _"_ _I am beginning to believe you are, perhaps, further from where you hoped to be."_ Wisdom said, _"Come, I shall introduce you to my dear friend. He is a dreamer and can show you the mortal realm easily."_ Wisdom moved across the terrain, and it began to morph into some sort of ruin. From the size and architecture, it was a castle of some sort, or perhaps a fort? She wasn't completely sure but it was something awe inspiring for certain.

 _"_ _My friend"_ Wisdom spoke out into a garden at the center of the Castle. It was a man, from what she could see. Tall, slender and a wonderfully bald head was all that was really distinctive of him. That and the pointed ears, but somehow she knew she shouldn't bring those up in the conversation.

"Wisdom. You have brought someone?" He asked. His voice was soothing, in a calculating sort of manner. A soft British undertone that reminded her of home.

 _"_ _New and lost."_ She replied, _"And she does not dream, but is here physically."_

"Physically? That shouldn't be possible without incredibly strong magic. Something that everyone would have been able to feel." The bald man replied surprised and curious.

"I walked through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries in Britain and somehow found myself here." Hariel answered the man, "I am Hariel Lily Potter."

"Ah, I am Solas if there are introductions to be had." He replied with a small nod of his head. "What is this Veil you speak of? And Department of Mysteries? Britain?"

"The Veil is otherwise known as the Veil of Death. It's…existence and purpose is honestly lost to us, but it sends one away completely so we assumed it was a passage to the realm of Death…" _though that was clearly incorrect as I'm here,_ "The Department of Mysteries is a branch of the Ministry that overlooks obscure and dangerous magics of the Wizarding World of Great Britain, which is a Country in the United Kingdoms…which is a part of Earth." She explained knowing full well that this man knew nothing about anything she had just said.

The spirit was right, she was far from where she hoped to be.

"Fascinating." Solas replied. "I have never heard of any of that but I am quite curious to learn more. For now, perhaps we should look to take you out of the Fade."

 _"_ _She would last here, her magic is…different. It reeks of Death so few demons would be attracted to her. I brought her here because she was something new, something that couldn't be corrupted like so many others."_ Wisdom replied.

"Thanks for that, but I would still prefer to leave this place." Hariel said honestly.

"Of course." Solas nodded, "It is nearing dawn, and I shall have to return to the waking world, but I shall do all I can to learn of ways to return you. Of that I promise you."

"Thank you, Solas." she said gratefully. "For now, may I stay with you Wisdom?"

 _"_ _Certainly. There is much that I can teach you. Perhaps the ways of the mortal realm you will go to should everything work properly. It is, I sense, far different from what you know."_

"That is wise, my Friend." Solas nodded approvingly, "Wisdom chooses to trust you with their knowledge and home, so I in turn shall as well. Know that I will keep my promise, and will return with whatever I learn when I next sleep."

"Thank you very much, I'll try to learn as much as I can until then."

With that, Solas faded from existence. Almost like, a shimmer and then he was simply gone.

 _"_ _Come, we have much to speak of."_ Wisdom spoke, _"There is much of Thedas in which you must learn if you are to survive."_

With an internal sigh, Hariel couldn't help but think that at the very least, the Veil of Death _did_ lead to the next great adventure. Simply not one she was expecting.

 _'_ _Well, at least it won't be boring.'_


	3. The Breach

A/N: I hate this chapter, so I won't be hurt if you do as well.

Key:  
"Dialogue"  
 _"Spirit/Demon"_ _  
_ _'Thoughts'_

Chapter 3: The Breach

One of the first things Hariel noticed about the fade was that time passed strangely. She would learn a small bit from Wisdom, perhaps what felt to be no more than a few hours, and suddenly Solas would return. Knowing that, no- he hadn't taken a nap, but an entire day had passed in the mortal realm. Other times, she would swear she spent a week in the Fade learning more than she ever thought possible about this world when Solas would claim no more than twelve hours had passed.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

Even so, it was more of a blessing rather than a curse because she knew literally nothing about Thedas, it's people, history or geographical layout. Wisdom was helpful in many ways, but other Spirits such as Knowledge and Courage had surprisingly more information for her to learn about. Courage mostly because, like her world, Thedas had seen its fair share of war. As such, spirits of Courage and Bravery spent much time around the mortal plane to observe and interact in whichever way they could find.

Hariel learned much, absorbing every bit of information she could, and writing what she knew to be absolutely important in her never-ending journal from her pouch. Hermione's beaded bag had garnered quite a few looks of astonishment from the Spirits she dealt with and from Solas as well who had never seen such magic before.

It was her bag that prompted quite a few lengthy conversations about the differences in Magic they had. It appeared that her brand of magic was opposite to that of Thedas. Where mages took from the Fade, she took from her own person, or rather her magical core. Essentially, he claimed she must have a "fade" within her. She didn't quite understand it but it helped put him at ease a bit so she didn't bother to say differently.

She told him a very summarized version of what she had learned over the hundred or so years she had lived and explained that magicals lived a fair bit longer than non-magicals, though she had stopped aging when she reached 21 and had remained the same since.

"So you are longer lived?" he asked when the topic came to light.

"Immortal it seems. I've done most everything I could think of to pass on, but Death will not receive me." she said duly. Though most emotions seemed pointless now, bitterness and hate toward death was not one she would let go of until she was taken by him.

"That is-...I am sorry. It is a lonely life to live." His voice was honest and utterly anguished. He didn't say it aloud, but she understood that he was immortal as well. The understanding was what hurt the most. A pain in her heart as she sympathized with the Elven man.

They spoke of a great many things aside from their magic, such as the current standing of the world. Essentially, she landed herself in a world ravaged by a Mage-Templar War. When she made it out of the Fade, Solas promised she could travel alongside him until such a time she was prepared to leave and live on her own. She appreciated the offer and said she would take him up on it when they discovered how to release her.

He had an idea, a radical one from what Wisdom muttered, and it was to tear down the Veil itself. No veil, no barrier and the Fade and Thedas would bleed into one again. During the Golden Age of the Elvhen, the Veil did not exist, Spirits and Mortals and Elvhen alike walked on the same ground. Solas spoke highly of the time when Arlathan existed. So much so that she concluded he lived through that time. To see the world as it was now (war ridden, elves seen little more than slaves, and spirits thought to be nothing more than demons) she could understand why he was more interested in the past than the present, and why he wanted to tear down the Veil.

After what Solas claimed to be a month of her residing in the Fade (how she had not starved was a mystery to her and Solas, but not one that she minded) Solas disappeared for a time. She couldn't be completely sure as to how long he had been dreaming elsewhere, but she was certain it had to be more than a few days. Wisdom agreed, so she was a fair bit concerned to what happened to her only ally in Thedas.

She was speaking to Wisdom about the Elvhen gods and goddesses when an earthquake overtook the Fade. Seeing Wisdom appear less than calm sent her into a mild panic. She didn't know what was happening but did not wish to see Wisdom harmed in any way. The ground shook below her and, like when she had been taken by Wisdom, something grabbed her and swallowed her down.

 _"Hariel!"_ she heard Wisdom scream her name, but the glowing being disappeared in the darkness that consumed her.

She met the ground harshly, her body jolting against the force. Groaning, she turned herself over and looked to see where she landed. Dark greens, wisps beyond, and the dull grey and black that she had first seen when she landed in the fade.

Fear's domain.

Standing, she saw a body lying away from her not far off. An _actual_ body. Not glowing like a spirit, and not exuding a fog like a demon. A physical body! She walked over to it, cautious when she noticed a glowing green scar along the left palm. The aura felt familiar...the magic more so yet she could not pinpoint why. She saw the face and it looked similar to her own.

Bright red hair, green eyes, and a somewhat similar facial structure. _'Cousins. We could easily be mistaken for cousins.'_ she thought absentmindedly. She sighed softly when it was clear that the woman was dead: her eyes dull and chest still. She closed the woman's eyes with her fingers whispering a soft prayer for her soul before looking closer to the scar. The magic vibrated violently on her palm, green light coming off it in waves. Curious, she sent a wave of magic toward it, and to her surprise it responded lightly. It was calling to her, softly, but surely. With narrowed eyes, she reached out to trace the scar and magic tingled in the air.

The moment her finger grazed it, she felt the magic take hold immediately. Tendrils leached onto her palm and sunk themselves into her body. It was...not exactly painful, but certainly uncomfortable. The magic coiled and battled her own magic as it sensed an evading force. Shaking her hand to relieve some of the pressure, she watched wide-eyed as the woman turned to dust before her eyes, a small blue smoke drifting away by invisible wind.

 _'This magic was keeping her alive in a way...without it she passed on?'_ she wondered lightly.

"Please! Somebody! Help me!" A woman screamed in French. Turning her head, she watched as a woman was being chased by shadowy figures.

 _'Fearlings'_ she thought. Wisdom had told her they existed in Fear's domain. She was unable to see them due to the fact that Fears all rooted back to the most basic fear of death. People feared spiders, fire, heights, and such due to the fact that they can all lead to a painful death. She had no such fear, rather she embraced it, and so fearlings merely looked like a pitiful ball of smoke.

The woman, however, clearly saw something and she ran for her life, crawling up a mountain face toward...a green scar? There was a scar in the space above the mountain, green and vibrant like the magic in her palm. With narrowed eyes, she started to run toward the woman. At the moment, she was her hope to get out of the Fade since she was just as physical as herself.

She had never been particularly physically active, and groaned when she started to feel the burn in her muscles as she climbed.

"Hold on!" she said in French to the woman as she continued her climb.

"Please! Help me!"

It took a few more moments before she reached the woman. She was elderly, soft wrinkles sprayed across her face and she wore some sort of fancy robe, complete with a hat that screamed self-importance.

"Come! We must run through!" The woman commanded, grasping her arm and rushing her toward the scar. Turning her neck she saw from over her shoulder that the little fears were closing in on them. They could do little harm to her as she saw them as nothing more than smoke-balls, but they _could_ harm the woman.

As they got closer to the scar, the woman jerked back and her grasp on her arm tightened. It wasn't the fearlings that had her, but something else. Something more powerful.

 _Fear_

 _"Not so fast little creature."_ its voice surrounded them in its false gentleness. _"You will not escape me this time."_

She tugged on the woman, trying to pull her away from the force, but it wasn't working. Not even her magic was doing anything. The elderly woman grasped on tightly, her face in pain before it cleared suddenly...alarmingly.

"Go." she said calmly, "Warn them." her voice was soft, but firm.

Hariel stared at her confused. ' _Warn who?'_ but she couldn't ask...the woman let go of her arm and was pulled into the fray of fearlings...lost.

She stared at the darkness for a moment, glaring at the little fears that surrounded her before she turned and ran for the scar. She didn't know the elderly womans' name but she wouldn't forget her. Any who embrace death despite their obvious fear deserve to be remembered. When she reached the scar, she didn't hesitate.

She jumped.

There was a blur of colors and suddenly she was on the physical ground again, and pain greeted her with fervor. She could hear the unsheathing of metal and groaned lightly. The world around her was a blur with nothing bearing clarity. She could see a pair of boots coming toward her face, a glint of metal in the corner of her eyes.

"Go find Leliana and Casandra, NOW!"

She tried to reach out to the voice, but before she could begin to reach out, her palm flared angrily and the pain became all consuming.

Distantly, she realized she was screaming, her throat contracting and being abused by her voice. She vaguely felt herself curl in, hoping to contain her pain, but knew nothing would help. Instead, she gave into the black that began to spot her vision and welcomed the painless dark.


	4. Thedas

Chapter 4: Thedas

It was dark and damp.

That was her first thought when consciousness began to creep back in. Wherever she was, it was dimly lit because her vision was becoming clear enough for her to realize and annoyingly damp because she was sitting on the cold floor where a thin sheet of wetness seeped in her clothing.

Someone had changed her. Her clothes were enchanted to remain at a certain temperature no matter what the weather was like.

 _What happened to my clothes?!_

She shifted and realized she was chained up completely. Thick heavy chains kept both her arms and legs conveniently tied together. It would be a simple matter to escape, a simple non-verbal wandless Alohamora and she would be free. The four-armed guards with live steel on the other hand, may or may not prove to be an issue if her core was as low as it felt.

Before she could decide whether or not to act, two women rushed into the room. There was a red-head draped in a robe of some sort that reminded her vividly of her grandmother. She had only one precious photograph of her maternal grandparents and this young woman looked eerily like her grandmother in her youth. Save for the cold look in her eyes: her grandmother looked like summer personified. This woman may have been the winter winds in comparison.

The other woman, well quite frankly she was in awe of her at first glance. A female warrior that commanded respect through sheer presence alone. The ability to do so was rare and fewer still were women, so set in the ways of a patriarchal society that they either didn't think to go against the norm or thought themselves incapable.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." The warrior woman said, her voice surprisingly vulnerable. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead; except for you."

Hariel stared at the woman for a moment, she had learned of the Conclave from both Solas and Wisdom but having been in the bloody Fade the entire time, it was literally impossible for her to have killed anyone let alone the entire Temple of Sacred Ashes and all its inhabitants. Admittedly, she was attempted to say that people die all the time, but that would likely get her a sword in her gut.

"You think I killed those people?" she asked softly, her voice hoarse and throat dry. How long had she been unconscious?

"Explain this." The woman demanded, roughly grabbing her left wrist and displaying the magic scar that glowed a nauseating Avada Kadavra green. It hadn't been that vibrant in the Fade, though admittedly nothing was that vibrant there.

"I can't…I don't know where it comes from or what it is." For the most part, it was true. She could speculate all day, theorize and such, but she'd rather not.

"You're _lying_!" The woman claimed, grabbing her shoulder roughly and shaking it. Quite the intimidating woman this one. The other woman pulled her off and made her step back a few steps.

"We need her, Cassandra." Ah, so her name was Cassandra.

"Why am I in chains?" she decided to ask, directing the question at the red-head. She seemed to be a fair bit calmer and less likely to skewer her in anger.

The red head decided to ignore her question, "Do you remember how this happened? How this all began?"

Well yes, she most certainly did but from what she gathered from practically everyone she had acquainted herself with in the Fade was to not speak of it unless you were speaking to someone you trusted completely. So many mortals feared and misunderstood spirits, demons, and the Fade itself to want to destroy whatever associated with it. This very war they were fighting was a sure-fire example of it. Having no desire to be harmed by the swords (because yes, she had already tried that method to die and all it was, was bloody painful) she spoke carefully.

"I-I remember black and green…it was everywhere. There…there was a woman crying out for help in Orlesian." Thank goodness Wisdom forced her to remember the proper language names, she nearly said French.

"A woman?" Both Cassandra and the red-head were extremely interested at that bit. Should she talk about the cousin-look-alike? Her gut said no.

"She- she said to warn them."

"Warn who?" Cassandra pushed angrily.

"I don't know. There were things chasing us, and then…she was gone."

The red-head looked like she wanted to say more, but Cassandra touched her shoulder and started to lead her out. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift." The both looked at her with great suspicion and images of her burning at the stake struck her.

Leliana moved through the door and disappeared just as Cassandra roughly grabbed her and raised her to her feet. Quickly unlocking the chains on her ankles, she had to ask, "What did happen?"

Cassandra hesitated for a moment. "It is better to show you."

The walk out the dungeon was brisk and silent. She could feel the glares of the soldiers that followed them in the rear and wondered just how bad Thedas was affected by the earthquake that she felt in the Fade. The door opened and she was surprised at the bright white exterior that presented itself to her.

Snow, snow everywhere.

Bloody hell it was cold. Even with the clothing they had given her she was shivering. She had admittedly spoiled herself over the years since had been one of the richest magical alive back on Earth. Even with the exuberant amount of spending she had done during a phase of grief, there was a ridiculous amount of gold left in her bag.

A bag which thankfully remained tied around her neck under a notice-me-not charm and tied to her magical signature so it would always return to her and would open for none but her. The amount of research gone into that last spell would have made Hermione jealous. It was a literal year of weaving magic into the beaded bag without compromising the undetectable extension charm and seeping her magical signature to it. Complex and utterly exhausting but worth it considering where she currently found herself in.

Beside the snow, there was that hideous green pervading every shadow. Looking up, she could easily say she had never seen _anything_ like it. There was a literal _tear_ in the bloody sky. Things were falling out of it and destroying the landscape around them, yet thankfully the town remained untouched for the most part.

 _The veil._ She stared at the tear and understood it wasn't the sky that had torn, but the Veil that separated the Physical world to the Fade.

 _Dear sweet merciful Death…_ She stared at the tear with an unmeasurable amount of shock. The things dropping from the tear…they had to be spirits. ' _Spirits are a reflection of what they surround themselves by.' That's what Solas and the Spirits she conversed with all agreed upon. With so much fear and hatred…they'll be corrupted._

 _They're turning into demons._

In that moment she felt fear for the Spirits she met in the Fade and hoped with all her might they were safe and far away from the tear.

"We call it the Breach." Cassandra said shaking her out of her thoughts. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger each passing hour. It's not the only such rift," she explained, "just the largest. All were caused at the explosion of the conclave."

She stared at the tear in the Veil, "I've never heard of an explosion being able to do that…"

"This one did." The warrior said harshly, "Unless we act, the Breach will grow until it swallows the world."

Suddenly, the tear in her hand started to vibrate before sending crutiatus-worthy pain waves throughout her body. The pain was so unexpected she cried out, and she valiantly started focusing her meager magical reserves to quell the violent magic coursing through her from the tear.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads and it _is_ killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

 _Killing her?_ She stared at the tear in her hand in wonder. Was it _truly_ killing her or would she simply die a painful death and be brought back soon after? Even if that wasn't the case, that didn't mean everyone else had to die alongside her. She wasn't fond of genocide or mass killings of any kind. People died, that's what they did true, but not like this.

"If I help you, will you let me go?" She asked instead of agreeing to help them blindly.

Clearly that wasn't the right thing to say to the woman. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at her. "I can promise you a trial. Nothing more." She said.

Hariel knew that if there _was_ to be a Trial, she would be executed either way. Medieval world with little regard to anything of the magical kind? Yes, she was certain they would swing the sword faster than allow the partaking of a legitimate trial. She sighed internally, she would have to escape after this mess was dealt with. Perhaps she could find Solas in this mess and ask for his help. He _had_ offered to help her once she was free from the Fade but these were rather strange circumstances.

The woman lead her through the village where every single citizen looked at her as though she were the most disgusting vile _thing_ they had ever encountered. Their hatred toward her was palpable in the very air she breathed.

 _Not new, but still unpleasant_ she thought as she looked over everyone she passed. She had been glorified and loved; condemned and hated by people more than once.

"They have decided your guilt, they need it." Cassandra said, "The people of Haven mourn our most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers, it was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought the leaders together: now they are dead."

"The Most Holy? They think I killed the bloody Pope?" she muttered under her breath shaking her head. She didn't believe in any "God" or "Creator" and honestly laughed at those who did. She firmly believed that Jesus Christ was just a Wizard that managed to fool a bunch of muggles into thinking he was Gods son. Magic could turn water to wine (Seamus finally figured it out after decades) and she had been resurrected no less than two dozen times. All unwilling, but the fact remained the same.

Still, even if she laughed at those who believed in such trivialities, never once had she tried to force her beliefs on others. Never once laughed in their faces or scorned their beliefs.

Never would she ever kill a figure of any religious belief let alone one as important as the Pope.

Not that any of them knew her well enough to know this, but still.

"Open the Gate! We must go to the rift!" Cassandra screamed to the soldiers guarding the gate with a glare sent at her.

"Yes Lady Seeker." They both said in unison before opening the gates. Cassandra turned at released the chains on her wrists and handed them to one of the guards.

"Come. Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach."

Shaking her wrists lightly, Hariel followed the woman on the trail. Sickly green littered in the shadows of everything and civilians ran past them to get to Haven. To them, the world was ending. Through a tear in the Sky that rained demons. She could understand their panic well enough even though she also knew the "demons" coming to help the Apocalypse were innocent in this whole ordeal as well.

As they made their way up toward the forward camp, Hariel needed to know their side of it. "…What did happen at the Conclave?"

Cassandra hesitated for a moment before answering, "No one knows. There was an explosion and everything- the Temple of Sacred Ashes was gone…the soldiers that found you- they say that you stepped out of a rift, then passed out."

"…I see." She said in lieu of anything else.

They came to a bridge where a group of soldiers were conversing in harsh tones before a blast from the Breach destroyed the bridge, sending the men, Casandra and herself hurtling to the frozen river below.

The landing on the harsh and unforgiving frozen body of water was nothing but unpleasant and painful. She had landed on her side, and groaned at the bruises forming. Lifting her head, she was welcome to the sight of Casandra drawing her blade at a grotesque creature snarling and gliding on the iced floor. Sharp claw like fingers, melting-like features and a wail that was enough to make her wince at the decibel it reached- yes, she could understand the fear that these Demons instilled in everyone they met.

Death would not be painless in their hands.

As she was picking herself up from the ground, a green portal like cloud formed in front of her and another demon identical to the one Casandra was fighting formed in front of her, arms primed to kill her where she half-laid.

Jumping to her feet and a few steps away from the Demon, Hariel turned to Casandra in hopes for some sort of support but found none as the woman focused harshly on her opponent. Wincing internally, Hariel tried to focus on her meager magical reserves and found them entirely lacking. She could probably cast a weak Lumos, but nothing more. Looking around for something, _anything_ , that could be used to defend herself, she spotted a sword by one of the Soldier's bodies, his lifeless eyes staring at her as she glanced at him.

Without hesitating, Hariel grasped the sword in hand and parried the attack that came toward her head. The demon staggered back just enough for her to press her attack, though the creature managed to lay a scratch along her forearm that burned as it bled.

Just as Cassandra destroyed her opponent, Hariel had managed to send hers back to the Fade where it could reform eventually to what it once was.

"I believe that's the last of them." Hariel commented as she moved toward Cassandra, her blade tilted to the ground.

"Drop your weapon, NOW!" Cassandra ordered her with her blade drawn threateningly. Hariel blinked at the woman surprised.

"You can't be serious." She said deadpan. "There are Demons falling out of the sky, and you expect me to follow you without a weapon to defend myself? No, not happening. I am keeping this sword until this is all over and maybe even after." She said firmly tightening her grasp on the leather hilt of the basic blade.

Cassandra looked at though she were ready to argue but sneered lightly when she realized Hariel was right.

"You are correct." She said as though she had swallowed a lemon, "I cannot protect you, but should you attempt to flee or harm anyone other than the demons I will slay you where you stand." Death have her, the woman was as intimidating as Moody was when she had first met the man.

Nodding, they made their way further up the mountain, destroying demons as they came across them with as much efficiency as two distrustful people could have whilst working together. Which is to say poorly- Hariel and Cassandra both were wounded lightly from the small skirmishes they had.

Soon enough they came to a set of frozen stairs where sounds of metal clashing reverberated around them.

"Come!" Cassandra said running up the stairs now, "We must help them!"

"Help who?" Hariel called out as she followed the woman running up the stairs. When they reached the top, Cassandra didn't hesitate to join the fight. She scanned the fighting area briefly, focusing mostly on the small acidic green portal in the air above it with fascination. This must be a Rift that Cassandra had spoken of.

There was a yelp of pain that startled her back to the present, and she moved to join the fight, cleaving whatever demon made their way into the path of her blade. The battle was brief, but bloody, as two of the soldiers were slain and laid dead in the blood-soaked snow. When all the demons were killed, a hand grasped her left wrist tightly, causing her eyes to widen as she realized just _who_ held her.

"Quickly! Before more come through!" Solas, it was Solas, he was here!

She didn't understand what happened, or how the magic exactly interacted with the Rift, but as her palm was thrust toward the portal it pulsed harshly before disappearing completely with a blast of green smoke that dissipated quickly.

She stared at the empty air and then back at her hand, "What did you do?" she asked him her eyes wide and confused.

Solas just leaned against his staff and as calmly as always said, " _I_ did nothing, the credit is yours."

"You mean this scar." She corrected staring at the magic that clung to her.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that the mark might also be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breaches wake and it seems I was correct." He sounded rather smug, though she could see that she was the only one to catch on it. The others clearly didn't know Solas all that well.

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra said stepping closer to them.

"Possibly." He conceded. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." She mentally snarled at that. She was no savior; never again, and certainly not to this place.

"Good to know. Here I thought we'd be ass deep in Demons forever." The voice came from behind her and Hariel turned to look at a short man (Dwarf most likely her mind supplied) with a rather stunning crossbow and impressive amount of chest hair spilling out from his v-neck cloak.

"And you are?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, Varric Tethras: rogue, story-teller, and occasional unwanted tag-a-long." He introduced with a small wink toward Cassandra at the last bit.

"Are you with the Chantry? Or…?" she asked curious. Admittedly her knowledge of Dwarves in general was rather lacking. Were they Andrastrian? Or did they all follow the beliefs of the Creators?

Solas actually chuckled at that, "Was that a serious question?"

"Technically, I'm a prisoner. Just like you." He answered fixing the sleeves on his cloak.

"Ah, well birds of a feather and all that. Nice to meet you, Varric." She said with a small nod.

"You may reconsider that stance in time." Solas said in his usual droll voice.

"Aw, I'm sure we'll become great friends in the Valley, Chuckles."

"Absolutely not." Cassandra interrupted firmly, "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-"

"Have you been in the Valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You _need_ me." Well, the Dwarf wasn't wrong but the Seeker certainly didn't want to admit such. It was almost funny how she huffed at him in annoyance.

"I am Solas, if there are to be introductions." Solas said confusing her. Did he not remember her? That wasn't right, the elf had a sharp look in his eyes and after a moment she understood. For whatever reason (one she was sure to get from him later) he didn't want their relationship to be known. "I am pleased to see you still live." There was sincerity in his voice at that, and she knew he had some sort of hand in her recuperation.

She nodded to him, making sure neither Cassandra nor the dwarf could see her eyes narrowing at him questioningly.

"He means," Varric put in, "'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"

"You seem to know a lot about this thing." Hariel motioned to her hand where the sickly green pulsed lightly.

"Solas is an apostate. Well versed in such matters." Cassandra said as though it explained everything. As though just because you had magic you understood _everything_ that was remotely magical. She wanted to scoff at the ignorance. Magic wasn't a fix-it-all ability. It wasn't a life-hack or anything of the sort. For those who thought so, were known to be the most against magic or quick to put blame on it for _everything_ that went wrong around them.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates Cassandra." Solas supplied dryly. "I admit that in my travels I have more experience with the Fade and the magic it entails. Far more than a mere Circle mage. I came to offer my assistance in closing the Breach for it threatens all regardless of origin."

She nodded in understanding. Those who did nothing about the problem, were a part of the problem.

"A sensible attitude." She said lightly.

"Indeed. Though it seems to be in short supply in the current circumstances." He sneered lightly. "Cassandra, you should know that the magic involved is unlike any I've seen. Whilst your prisoner is a mage, I sincerely doubt any single mage could have the power to bring this upon us."

"Understood." Cassandra acquiesced. A part of Hariel wanted to blink in surprise, but forced herself to remain blank faced. Solas clearly had some respect from the Seeker, enough so that his word was accepted so easily. At the very least, he was defending her innocence. "Let us continue on, we must reach the forward camp."

The three of them nodded at the woman slightly before moving to the opening toward the river bank as the main road was completely blocked off. She gave one small glance to the soldiers that laid dead on the floor and hoped they found peace in Death's embrace.

Solas who noticed laid a hand on her shoulder lightly. "There is little time to waste, but they will be cared for by others who pass through."

Nodding, Hariel moved down to the river bank and closer to the Breach. Whatever was to happen next, at the very least she was not alone. Solas's magic intertwined with her aura lightly, and she felt reassured. He wouldn't leave her, he would keep his word, and they would figure what was to happen later.

' _Close the Breach, and then we can leave.'_ She thought to herself lightly as she stayed close to Solas' side. _'How hard can it possibly be?'_

If she knew what was to come, she would have been smarter than jinxing herself.


	5. Haven

Chapter 5: Haven

She should have known better than uttering those words. She had most assuredly jinxed herself in the worst of ways. The path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, or what remained of it, was riddled with demons and rifts determined to destroy everything and everyone in their path. She could hardly fathom how these spirits were tainted so quickly, for they all could not have been demons to begin with. So much senseless death on both sides.

For some reason she could not fathom, Hariel had been given the choice in how to proceed to the Temple. Disliking the thought of sneaking around through the mines, she had chosen to go through with the soldiers in a direct path to the first rift.

The welcome had not been particularly welcoming, nor the battle that ensued whilst they attempted to close the Breach. Her Potter luck truly showed when they were faced with not only a small hoard of wraiths and horrors, but a bloody Pride demon as well.

It was little surprise that she passed out after trying to close the Breach.

This time around, waking up had been worse than the first (she had woken up in a damp dungeon). At least she felt somewhat warm, and there had been an attempt of comfort in the form of a cabin room and hay stuffed mattress.

With a soft groan, Hariel pushed her magic slightly outwards to sense her surroundings without opening her eyes. The Cabin was empty, but there were plenty of people outside of it and a few directly outside the door. Knowing she couldn't continue to pretend to be unconscious for much longer, she decided to officially awaken to this new and somewhat barbaric world.

As she opened them, and attempted to sit up, an elf that must have been attending to her whilst she was asleep, walked in the room with a basket filled with healing herbs.

The elf was also horribly startled easily.

"Oh! You-you're awake! I swear I had no idea!" the she-elf rambled.

Her groveling was beginning to irritate Hariel, "It's fine, I just woke up." She tried to reassure, but she must have sounded harsher than she meant to as the groveling got to the point where the she-elf was _literally_ bowing on the floor. The undeniably cold and unforgiving stone…and she readily groveled into it. ' _This does not bode well for me if this is her reaction. I can only_ guess _how other people will react._ '

"Enough, stand up." She tried, "There is no reason for you to be on the floor."

"Forgive me, your grace." _Merlin's saggy—no, she did not just call me that._ "Lady Cassandra wished to know immediately when you awoke and wishes to see you in the Chantry."

"Lady- wait the Cha-?" the she-elf fled before she could even finish her sentence. "Where the bloody hell is the Chantry?" she finally grounded out utterly annoyed.

Trying to center herself and settle her annoyance at the entirety of the situation, Hariel searched the room for more suitable clothes and found the cheap leather set left for her wanting.

' _These are pitiful…Where are_ my _clothes?'_ she wondered and hastily transfigured the clothes into something that wouldn't allow the cold cling to her skin the way the leather would.

Once she was changed into the newly transfigured clothes, Hariel idly searched the cabin for more information and found a small journal on the desk not far from her cot.

Skimming through the entries, she learned that it had been two days since their assault on the Breach in the ruins of the Conclave. Adan, the man who wrote the entries, had been her main caretaker aside from "the elf" whom she concluded was Solas. There was a fair bit of relief to see that Solas had taken care of her and not abandoned her to these people. As much as she had learned about Thedas, she felt wholly unprepared for being physically in it. From what she had observed (which, granted, was not much) they seemed to be particularly behind in both technologically and culturally considering they didn't even have toilets or showers and abided by slavery and the caste system. The Monarchy system was a whole other can of worms she had no desire to deal with but was now forced to.

All in all, this world was barbaric compared to the one she left.

With a soft sigh, Hariel knew she needed to leave this cabin at some point and head toward the Chantry. Honestly, it shouldn't be too hard to find, as she had seen through Wisdom that the Chantry (much like the Catholic Church in her world) enjoyed making sure all knew which was the house of God. It always had to be the largest, gawdiest, most senseless waste of materials to make all who entered feel lacking in something and thus gravitate toward the building in hopes of filling that insecurity. Not to say it didn't help people, she merely knew there were ways to do so without spending an abhorrent amount of money on aesthetic.

The moment she stepped out of the Cabin, she wanted to apparate to any other location despite the high chances of splinching herself. There was a literal wall of soldiers keeping her walkway clear of the citizens of town from crowding her. Which they _actually_ tried to do; she could see that there were a large number of people who tried to push past the group of soldiers to get to her.

" _There she is! The Herald of Andraste!"_

" _She has the power to heal the sky."_

" _Sent by the Maker himself to save us!"_

" _She's smaller than I imagined..."_

" _-eard she was supposed to close the Breach."_

She felt herself internally rage at every comment she was able to hear clearly in the clamor of voices around her. The _Herald?_ Sent by the Maker?! As soon as she met with the Seeker she was getting out of this insanity. She was most certainly _not_ going to be  anyone's savior let alone the entirety of another world _and_ the Fade as they were connected. She would rather help burn this place to the ground than become its bloody _savior_.

By the time that she made it to the Chantry, her anger was boiling inside her viciously.

There were voices coming through the large wooden doors and it took all her considerably large self- control to quell her anger and ease the emotions off her face. When she opened the doors, she was met with the Lady Seeker, the red-head Leliana, and the Chantry Man she had met at the Forward Camp that wanted to arrest her on sight.

"Chain her!" yes, he clearly had his priorities set, "I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial."

The guards he addressed didn't bother to move thankfully.

"Disregard that order and leave us." The Lady Seeker commanded, and unlike the Chantry fellow, her orders were obeyed.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker."

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat." Cassandra said firmly, "I will not ignore it."

Walking toward the rounded table, Hariel crossed her arms, "You want my help again." It was not a question and she could see the firm nods of both Cassandra and Leliana.

"You are still a suspect!" Rodrick! That was his name, a " _glorified clerk"_ according to Cassandra.

"No. She is not." Much like the Chancelor, Hariel was equally surprised. She had pegged them to be equivalent to the Wizarding world in hoping for an easy scapegoat. She had the "mark" that could easily be considered proof to her supposed guilt.

Leliana moved toward the pair, "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others—or have allies who yet live."

Hariel had to give the woman a bit of credit. She remained completely calm and emotionless, yet her accusation was clear to all those in the room as she stared at the Chancelor.

" _I_ am a suspect?!" The man sounded beyond wounded and offended.

" _You_ and many others."

"But not the prisoner?" he was _very_ offended.

"I head the voices in the Temple. The Divine called to her for help." The Seeker stated as though it answered everything.

"So her survival. That thing on her hand, all a coincidence?" She had to agree with the Chancelor for some part of it. It was a huge coincidence that the moment the Breach opened she was sucked into Fears domain. It was too much of a coincidence that the woman who actually held the Mark, who the Most Holy actually called out to, resembled her enough in voice and features to be able to play as her.

It was far too much of a coincidence.

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour." Hariel narrowed her eyes at the Seeker. She would go with a huge coincidence rather than believe a God had any hand in her being there.

"Five minutes ago you wanted me dead, and now I'm your _savior?"_ she demanded harshly.

"I was wrong." The Seeker actually sounded somewhat repentant. "Perhaps I still am. I will, however, not pretend that you were not what we needed when we needed it."

"The Breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it." Leliana added on.

"That is NOT your decision to decide." Rodrick seemed determined to be a part of the decision planning.

In annoyance, Cassandra moved to the side and brought a heavy tome and slammed it on the table with a loud thud. "Do you know what this is?" she asked rhetorically as she pointed at the tome, "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible and we will restore order. With, or without your approval."

At this, the Chancelor walked out the door with his head held high and nose lifted into the air with a huff. Hariel narrowed her eyes at the man as he brushed past her, and knew without a doubt he would do everything in his power to cause problems for her.

"This is the Divine's directive." Leliana started as she moved towards Cassandra, "Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the Chaos. We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support."

"But we have no choice, we must act now, with you by our side." Both of them turned to look at Hariel and she wanted nothing more than to apparate away from them.

"What is the Inquisition of old, exactly?" Hariel asked, "I've heard of Inquisitions before and they have never been about restoring order." She remembered the history lessons she took out of boredom at some universities. The term Inquisition wasn't exactly a synonym for benign acts.

"It preceded the Chantry. People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad." Leliana stated somewhat vaguely.

"After, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar Order, but the Templars have lost their way."

"The Inquisition became the Templars?" she asked for clarification and received a nod, "That is not exactly a point in your favor you realize. Even from it's infancy the Templars have gone against magic—which, if you failed to realize, I most certainly possess."

"Your magic will not be a problem." Leliana tried to reassure, "Many mages survived the Conclave and remain to assist in any way they can."

Hariel narrowed her eyes at them, "That may be so, but aren't you still a part of the Chantry? What with the Inquisition being brought because the Divine wrote that huge book."

Cassandra actually snorted, "Is that what you see?"

"The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine, and then it will wait for her direction." Leliana explained. Honestly, that didn't come as a surprise to her but she would have hoped given the threat of the apocalypse there would be more reaction to the whole situation rather than politicking and power grabs.

"But we cannot wait. So many Gland Clerics died at the Conclave… No, we are on our own. Perhaps forever." Hariel could hear the soft sorrow in her voice. Given that she was a Seeker, the lack of Chantry support must have hurt her personally.

In all honesty, Hariel had no desire to stay with this _Inquisition_. They were pitiful in terms of a group seeking order. They truly were alone and annoyingly, the only ones thus far that wanted to do all they could to seal the Breach. The Breach which threatened not only the world she found herself in but the Fade itself. The Fade where so many of the spirits she had come to know over the unexplainable amount of time she spent within it were threatened. So many of whom may already have been sucked into the physical realm to be tainted and corrupted. Who were already lost and in fear of the possibility.

She cared nothing for Thedas itself. Not truly. Humans were mostly arrogant slobs who clung to anything that would help them lord over others in their supposed superiority. The Dwarves were happy to remain in their Thaigs away from the problems of the surface in isolation. The Elves were so lost in their desperation to cling to what they thought they knew of their past, and the Qunari were brash and vicious in their attempts to convert all to the Qun.

No, she cared nothing for the inhabitants of Thedas save for a few and the Nature of the world itself.

But she couldn't very well allow the monstrosity of the Breach to remain.

"We'll see how this goes." She finally conceded after some time.

"That is all we ask." Leliana sounded extremely relieved and hopeful. It made her stomach turn.

"Let us fix this, before it is too late." Cassandra held her hand out to Hariel. She looked at it for a moment before shaking the offered hand.

She knew, from the deepest part of her soul, that she would come to heavily regret joining this Inquisition; but what else was she to do?


	6. Varric and Solas

Chapter 6: Varric and Solas

Hariel left the Chantry feeling aggravated and alone. Leliana had suggested to her to fully settle in at Haven; in other words, get out of their way as they handle how to move forward. In all honesty, she wasn't offended seeing as she had absolutely no political clout in Thedas nor any real desire to be a part of their planning. She needed to find one person in all of Thedas, someone who thankfully was in Haven itself.

Solas.

She knew, now after the Mark fully integrated itself alongside her magic, why the foreign scar felt so familiar: It was Solas' magic. The magic that anchored itself onto her palm was a harsher than the soft thrum she had come to associate Solas' magic with, but the underlying aura it gave out was undeniably the same.

So, the Elf had a lot of questions to answer.

The little settlement, for it scarcely counted as a town given the lack of houses and buildings, was small and its people still full of fear. They skittered around her in awe and wonder but never actually deigned to go near her or actually speak to her. She was already on a pedestal and she couldn't understand _why._ Why did these people look to a complete stranger in hopes of salvation? Why not turn to groups that were already well established? Why did they cling to this small settlement?

Aggravated at not being able to understand, Hariel pushed forward through the settlement in search for her friend. He had to have answers for her.

"How you holding up, kid?"

Startled at actually being addressed, Hariel turned to the American-esque accented voice to find the Dwarf she met fighting with Solas in the mountain.

"Serra Tethras." She returned amicably, "I have seen both better and worse days, so there is some comfort in that."

"I feel you. Becoming the most hated person in all of Thedas to the Herald of Andraste." He said with a small smirk, "Some people would have spread that out more than a few days."

She laughed bitterly, "You would be surprised. I am however, grateful to not be in chains. Chafes horribly on the wrists, you know."

"That, I do understand. I was, or _am_ , still a prisoner to the Lady Seeker."

"Still? I thought you would be freed from such confines given what you did at the Temple." She said with a raised eyebrow.

"I was brought to tell the story of the Champion to the Divine. Since everything went to hell, my freedom was never actually given to me." He said motioning for her to move and sit near his little campfire. The warmth was a welcome change to the bitter cold air she had been breathing.

"Ah, Hawke right? You were friends then?" she had been shown the main aspects of the Champion's life in Kirkwall by spirits of Valor who had watched the man take control of the dire situation in the City of Chains.

He was… different compared to many heroes she had seen and read about. Most had taken on this heavy hearted, tough persona to live through the consequences of their actions. Angsty heroes that died before they became the villain and what not. Hawke, was the exact opposite of all the heroes she had known of: where they were firm and harsh, he was constantly cracking a joke and elevating a tense situation toward his favor. Garret Hawke, was a jokester through and through with a mischievous streak a mile wide.

He was most certainly one of the people that Hariel hoped would survive this whole endeavor if only for his wit.

"Yeah, we had our own little adventure in Kirkwall before—well before everything went to hell."

"I only heard rumors, but he sounded like a good man."

"One of the best." Varric said firmly with a nod.

They sat in the warmth of the fire in amicable silence for a time before she decided to continue her search for Solas. Turning to Varric, she asked, "Have you seen Solas anywhere? I wanted to ask him about this." She waved her scar ridden hand.

"Chuckles? He has a cabin over by Adan's. Its just over in that direction, near the wall." He answered, pointing in the general direction of where she would be able to find her wayward friend.

Standing and brushing off the snow from her legs, she nodded to Varric in thanks and moved toward the direction she would hopefully be able to find Solas. She passed by what she assumed was the bar and mess hall given the smell and sounds coming from within. Hariel's stomach grumbled lightly, but decided it was better to get her answers first and then some food.

It didn't take long to find the Cabin Varric spoke about, seeing as Solas stood outside it whilst staring off into the distance. He certainly was able to pull off the tortured soul look as he gazed without truly looking.

"Solas."

"Lethalan." He nodded to her as she moved to sit on the wall that acted as a guard rail for the stairs by his cabin. "How do you feel?" he looked at her, truly concerned.

"I would be better without this on my hand," she said gesturing to the Mark, "and without the people declaring me the Herald of Andraste."

He nodded in acknowledgment before stepping back and looking off toward the Chantry for a moment. "Let us move into the Cabin, it is more comfortable than being in the cold." _'And away from prying eyes and ears.'_ She knew he wanted to say.

When they were both in the cabin, Hariel waved her hand around them and silently cast a privacy ward. People who wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation would hear harmless small-talk.

Turning to her friend, she saw he moved to the fireplace and lit it easily, the cabin room immediately filling with a growing warmth. She moved toward the two seats he had brought into his cabin and quickly changed them into something more comfortable pleasing both herself and Solas as they sat in a tense silence for a few moments.

"Lethalan… I am sorry this is how you came out of the Fade." He finally said, looking at her intensely, "I did not intend for such a thing to happen. Nor for you to be bound by this magic."

She stared harshly at the Mark, "What exactly is this, Solas?" she asked, "I can feel that it is directly linked to your magic. It is- harsher and rougher than normal but it is still _yours._ "

He moved to grasp her hand, his magic playing alongside her own and that of the marks. It was as though the world was in synchrony for the first time. Everything felt absolutely right, and she could feel the earth beneath the wooden floor. It was… breathtaking. She could see that she was not the only one affected, as Solas also seemed to be overwhelmed before his eyes snapped to hers in some sort of understanding.

Moving away from her and untangling their magic, Solas rubbed his hand on his face before sighing; something that was completely out of character for him.

"Solas?"

"The mark _is_ mine, that you are correct in. It is the anchor to my Foci." He stated honestly, "I have not been completely honest with you… or rather I have omitted a very large part of who I am from you."

She stared at him for a long moment, taking in his weary features. This wasn't the confident man she had come to know in the Fade, but someone filled with regret and guilt. Perhaps, this was actually her first time seeing Solas without all his guards up, even ones she had not known to exist.

"Is this where you tell me you're immortal like me?" she asked. She always suspected. There was a weight on his shoulders that was simply too similar to the one she carried for her not to guess correctly.

He laughed soft and bitterly, "I am far older than you, da'len. My name _is_ Solas, before you ask. It was my purpose long ago. My entire being."

"Pride?"

He nodded, "Yes. I was Pride. I am more now, but it does not change what I was. In the times of Arlathan, I was known as Solas—and during the war I was given a different title, something used to mock me, degrade me: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf."

Hariel merely expected him to say he was of the Elven, but to discover he was Fen'Harel was another matter entirely and not something she was prepared for.

"Fen'Harel? The Elven god that locked away the others?" she whispered out.

"Yes." He nodded, letting out some of his actual power and it resonated with the mark on her hand wonderfully. Holding in a soft moan at the feeling, Hariel focused on Solas once again.

"If this is the anchor…then where is the Foci itself?" she asked curiously.

He winced, actually winced and Hariel felt dread fill her.

"I never intentioned for any of this to happen. I was too weak when I awoke, I could not open it myself." He said softly not looking at her, "He was not meant to survive opening my Foci, yet somehow he did and caused this chaos."

She was doubly glad she had cast the privacy ward, everything Solas was saying damned him in the eyes of the people of Haven. Everything he said confirmed that he was the one to have caused all of this, albeit unintentionally.

"Who did you give your Foci to, Solas?"

"An ancient Magister known as Corypheus. He is a monstrosity and I hoped to end him and retrieve my Foci."

Hariel stayed silent for a moment. "Why did you need him to open your Foci, Solas? What could you possibly need it for? Power like that… it is far too easy to be corrupted by that amount of power."

He turned to look her in the eyes.

"To fix my mistake." He said firmly, "When I locked away the others and erected the Veil I never imagined this is what would have happened! My people are lost, so far from what they once were they can no longer be considered _of the people!_ Slaves and "knife-ears" to everyone in this pitiful world. Silent…its so silent it hurts Hariel. The world is without sound compared to what it was before the Veil existed. Like, every single being is a Tranquil- that is how it feels to me."

Hariel understood what Tranquil were thanks to Wisdom and Faith. They were beings completely cut from their emotions and the Fade. Trapped in their own bodies in a way they were never meant to be. She had seen memories of them within the circle towers she had peered into, and knew it was a fate all to similar to a dementors kiss for her to ever be ok with such an act.

"I locked them away because they would have destroyed everything and everyone in their war. After they murdered Mythal I knew they could no longer be allowed to linger. I thought- I believed that erecting the Veil was the best option. They would be locked away and The People would be safe, so I went to sleep." She knew he meant the long slumber, something that was common occurrence to those of a certain power level during the times of Arlathan. "When I awoke, I was too weak and I learned that I destroyed the world. Arlathan fell without magic in the air and Humans destroyed the remains of The People—destroying them completely.

"I have to fix it, Hariel."

She looked at the Elven man with new eyes. Her friend was hurting beyond anything she had thought possible. Pains so deep that they hurt her just thinking about them.

She couldn't let this continue. She couldn't leave him like this and she couldn't tear him away from his purpose.

"Then we will fix it." She said firmly, and she could see the surprise in Solas' eyes, " _Together_ , we will fix this Solas."

"Thank you, Lethalan."

His head was bowed, a weight lifted from his shoulders and Hariel couldn't help but lean toward him and wrap him in her arms. They took comfort in each others arms. She would not be alone in this world, and he would not be alone in his pursuit.

Together, they would be able to fix things.

Or together, they would destroy it and build anew.


End file.
